This Can't Be Real
by lolzilla
Summary: Jean was alone in the zombie apocalypse until he goes on a supply run in the city and nearly got himself killed. Thankfully Marco saved him and they joined forces. In the midst of a cold winter, Jean realizes the feelings he's harboring for Marco. Amidst awkward questions and badly dropped hints, it will probably work out.
1. prologue

**prologue**

 _The entire world has gone to shit._

Jean Kirstien sat on a tree stump. Silence enveloped the woods around him. Not the tweet of a bird, nor the rustle of leaves could be heard.

 _This can't be happening_.

There was only one living soul among the trees. The key word being living.

 _It's impossible._

The rustle of leaves caught his attention and he rose to his feet. A single zombie emerged from the surrounding trees. There was no point in using his gun so he drew his hunting knife from the sheath strapped to his hip. As the living dead slowly made it's way towards him, Jean gripped his knife tightly. The zombie lunged at him and Jean brought his knife down into its skull, effectively killing it. He sighed heavily and grabbed his bag from its resting spot beside the tree stump. Pulling the strap over his head he sheathed his knife and walked back into the forest.

 _This can't be real._


	2. Chapter 1

Jean walked alone through the empty city. His knife was at the ready and his pistol in its holster. Supplies were running low so he had decided to take a detour through the city. Now, with the broken buildings surrounding him and shadows in every alley, he was seriously regretting his sounds of zombies trapped in the stores filled his ears and he couldn't help but flinch every time he heard a particularly loud bang against the boarded up doors and windows.

This world was rotten and frankly, one Jean didn't want to be in anymore. However what he wanted more than an escape was salvation he had dreamed about since the day this all started. Something to remove the torture from his everyday life these days. Jean wasn't stupid, he knew there wasn't someone who was going to wipe out all the zombies, but he just wanted something to make his life a bit easier. Maybe a military bunker, better weapons, a car even, or possibly someone-

Jean was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of splintering wood. He turned towards the source of the noise and saw the boards on the nearby store cracking under the force of the dozens of zombies trying to escape.

There was definitely too many for him to fight off so his only options were to either run or hide. Jean glanced around for hiding spots and his eyes landed on a delivery truck with a broken latch. He ran to it and slipped his knife into the sheath to open the door slightly. It was empty save a few cartons of milk that were most definitely spoiled by now.

As quietly as possible, Jean climbed into the truck and closed the door behind him. Through the walls of the truck he heard the boards give and the shuffling of the zombies pouring from the store. He sat stalk still, barely even breathing as he listened to them wander around outside. A stroke of luck was what brought the sound of a pigeon cooing in the street. The zombies were attracted to the living animal and as the bird took off and flew away most of them followed it.

Slowly and quietly, Jean lifted the door and looked around. He didn't see any immediate danger so he carefully drew his hunting knife and stepped out of the truck. He decided to get out of the city as fast as possible and find supplies another time. He began to jog lightly in an attempt to get out faster and watched all the windows without boards for movement. As he was looking for zombies he wasn't quite paying attention to the road and made one horrible mistake. His foot collided with an empty tin can and it rolled noisily down the street.

Jean froze like a statue and his face paled. He heard rustling from a store nearby and a zombie holding a dead squirrel in one hand stumbled through the doorway. They locked eyes and Jean felt rooted to the spot and his heart pounded in his chest. He tried to move but his limbs felt stiff as the boards covering the shop windows. The zombie lunged at him and Jean brought up his arms to keep the zombie a safe distance from his neck and face.

The impact knocked him on his ass and he began fighting zombie to keep it from biting him. He couldn't move the hand holding his knife or the zombie would get at him, and it wasn't exactly light so Jean couldn't push it off. Jean fought against the hungry monster but couldn't get it off of him no matter how hard he tried. His arms began to get tired and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer.

An angel. That's what saved him. An angel in the form of a beautiful freckled boy with a bow and arrow. The arrow went into the zombies head killing it instantly. The angel ran over and helped Jean push the zombie off of him, he helped Jean to his feet, he introduced himself as Marco.

"What's your name?" Marco asked as he pulled his arrow from the zombies skull.

"I'm Jean," Jean said. Marco extended his hand to shake Jean's. Jean shook it and half smiled at Marco. "Thanks for saving me."

"It was no problem, really. Gotta help fellow humans right. In fact I was just thinking how much I'd like some company,'' Marco smiled as he wiped the blood from his arrow.

"I could join you if you want. I'd love some company these days," Jean offered. Marco's smile brightened and he walked back over to Jean's side. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Jean and Marco carefully made their way out of the city together. They walked along country roads and ransacked rural houses for supplies. Their methods kept them alive and fairly healthy through the summer. They slept in abandoned houses or sometimes cars. Trees if the other options weren't available.


	3. Chapter 2

They found an abandoned farm in early autumn. It had a fairly sturdy fence around and a large house and barn. Jean wanted to go check it out but Marco was apprehensive about entering someone else's farm. After a great deal of convincing he agreed to seeing if there was anyone on the property.

Jean and Marco hopped over the fence and carefully made their way over to the front door to the house. Jean knocked on the door loudly while Marco kept his bow at the ready in case something tried to come at them from behind. There was no response to Jean's knocking so he tried again, louder this time.

The house remained silent. Jean tried the door but as expected, it was locked. Marco wanted to spare the door if possible. They circled the house and found a window that was a little high but had a desk under it for them to climb onto. Marco attempted to climb up himself but it was too high for him to reach.

"Okay, we need to break that window, then I'll give you a boost, you climb in and unlock the front door for me," Jean said. Marco nodded and turned to find something to break the window with. He saw a shovel leaning against the barn and began jogging over to it. He was about halfway to the barn when Jean saw the zombie lumbering towards him from the wilted corn fields.

"Marco, Look out!" Jean yelled to him. He turned to look at Jean who pointed at the quickly approaching zombie. Marco had put down his bow in favor of trying to reach the window ledge earlier, and without his long range weapon he was at a distinct disadvantage.

He looked to where Jean was pointing and froze. Oh no, not him. Marco stared at his old highschool friend, Samuel, only pale, dead and coming to eat him. He couldn't get his body to move, even though he so desperately wanted to run away. Zombie Samuel moved closer and Jean ran towards them. Marco's hand moved to pull his knife free from his belt loop, but he just couldn't raise the weapon against his friend. Zombie Samuel made a grab for Marco's arm but he stumbled back at the last second.

A gunshot rang through the air and Zombie Samuel toppled to the ground. Jean stood a few meters away with his gun still raised. Marco's legs gave out and he collapsed to a sitting position on the ground. Jean ran to his side and kneeled down next to him.

"Marco, are you okay? You didn't get scratched or anything right?" Jean asked as he began frantically checking Marco's arms for any marks. Marco nodded silently as he looked past Jean at the fallen body of his school comrade. Jean noticed where he was looking and put two and two together and pulled Marco into his arms. Marco accepted the hug and buried his face into Jeans shoulder.

They stayed like that for a few minutes while Jean looked around for any zombies that could've been drawn by the gunshot. None came, not over the fence at least, and Marco eventually pulled away from Jean.

"Let's go get that shovel so we can get inside, yeah?" Marco said with a small smile. Jean nodded and got to his feet before helping Marco up. He ran the rest of the way and grabbed the shovel from it's place against the barn and they walked back to the house together. Their plan worked past that point and they both got inside at least semi safe and sound.

"We can bury him," Jean said suddenly. Marco looked up at him quizzically. "If you want to that is," Jean added sheepishly. Marco smiled, "Yeah, I'd like that."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'mma be real with you guys, I just forgot to update this. I thought I did, but I didn't. Sorry about that! '^_^**

They went around to the back of the house to dig a hole big enough for Samuel to fit in, or more, Jean dug while Marco apologised for not being able to help him more as they only had one shovel. Once the had the hole dug, they went to go get Samuel. Jean was glad, for Marco's sake, that he wasn't too rotten or gorey. They carried him to the hole and lay him down next to the hole for Marco to say goodbye.

"Okay, let's bury him," Marco said, with a failed attempt to hide the sadness in his voice. Jean nodded and grabbed his ankles, Marco took him by his shoulders and together they gently lowered him into the hole. Marco stared at his feet as Jean filled the hole. He carefully led Marco back inside and to the dusty couch.

Marco flopped ungracefully onto the couch and Jean sat beside him. Marco just sat and stared at his lap. Jean stayed with him for a few minutes before he heard Marco's stomach growl, come to think of it he was pretty hungry too. Hopefully this place had some food 'cause they were running low.

Jean stood up to find the kitchen. He succeeded in finding the bathroom and a closet before he found it. He walked inside and began rifling through the cupboards for something to eat. He hit the jackpot on the third as he found a whole box of granola bars. He brought it back to Marco and gave him one. He smiled and thanked him.

They ate in silence and when they were done Jean continued going through the cupboards. All he found were a few soup cans and a jar of pickles. He put it all in their backpacks and walked back over to Marco.

"We need to check the other rooms," He said. Jean nodded, "Do you want to do it now or later?"

"Let's do it now, better safe than sorry right?" Marco said. Jean smiled and offered Marco a hand to help him up, which he gratefully took. They used the same system they always did, Jean went in first with his gun and Marco was ready to stab anything that came at Jean from an angle he couldn't see. They cleared the entire first floor and went upstairs. There they found another bathroom, a closet and a guest bedroom. Finally, there was just the master bedroom to check.

Jean carefully opened the door and almost threw up. On the bed lay an old woman with a bullet hole in her head. He couldn't pull his eyes away from the grotesque sight. Until he noticed that she didn't have a gun.

"Jean move!" Marco yelled as he pushed him farther into the room. The zombie of an old farmer lunged at the spot Jean had been standing in. Marco stabbed it's head and it toppled to the ground.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Jean nodded his head. Marco walked into the room, carefully stepping over the fallen farmer. The boys began their search of the room, Jean found a flashlight and some batteries in the desk and Marco found a hunting rifle in the closet.

"Do you have any idea how to use that?" Jean asked him.

"Not an inkling," Marco answered with a small smile. "I'll figure it out though."

Jean looked back at the woman in the bed. "What should we do with them?"

"Bury them I guess," Marco looked at the farmer. They took the sheets on the bed and wrapped one around each body. They carried them downstairs as the sun went down.

Marco didn't sleep that night. He lay in the guest bedroom awake. Jean sat leaning against the bed, he didn't sleep either. The next morning, two more graves were made beside Samuel's


	5. Chapter 4

The farm proved to be a very nice home. Both Marco and Jean refused to sleep in the Master bedroom so they alternated who slept on the couch each night, Marco liked The Walking Dead and refused to let Jean open the barn, and Jean hated the fake bear rug. At least, Marco said it was fake. Jean didn't quite believe him.

Winter was coming and the only source of heat they had was a small fireplace that they didn't want to use much in case bandits or something saw the smoke. They had reinforced the fence and made it a bit higher but they went on supply runs that often lasted more than just a day, though they always returned as quickly as possible.

"What are we going to do about winter?" Marco asked one night at "dinner".

"I don't know. I found a multitude of blankets in the upstairs closet but blankets can only do so much really," Jean said. Marco nodded.

They thought about it that night. Jean didn't come up with anything but Marco remembered how warm it would be when his dog use to sleep with him. Living creatures were like natural heaters. He decided to bring it up tomorrow.

"We should sleep together," Marco said as he sat next to Jean on the couch the next afternoon.

"What?!" Jean stared at Marco, who then realised how that had sounded.

"No, no. Like, in the same bed, not like that," Marco said as he blushed, "Last night I was thinking about how we can stay warm this winter, and I remembered how warm it was when my dog would sleep with me when I was little."

"Oh, right. Yeah that makes sense," Jean said. Marco smiled and got up to go get a book from their small pile. They found a few lying around the house and there wasn't really much to do during the apocalypse. Marco had read a couple of them already and Jean had chosen the largest one to read first so he was working on that one.

He grabbed both his and Jean's book and brought them back to the couch. He gave Jean his and they both sat and read for a while. Jean got bored of his book so he closed it and put it down. He looked at Marco and saw how much he was enjoying his book and smiled. He ended up just watching Marco read until his stomach growled and Marco looked up from his book.

"Hungry?"

Jean blushed and laughed gently, "Yeah, a little."

Marco stood and grabbed the bag of food. He closed his eyes and pulled out a random food. It was the pickle jar. He attempted to take the lid off but it didn't come loose. He tried again but he couldn't get it to budge. After one final attempt at popping the lid, he gave in and slowly walked over to Jean. His cheeks flushed as he held out the jar to him.

"Can you help me?" Marco asked as he stared at the floor in embarrassment. Jean chuckled slightly before he took the jar from Marco and twisted the lid. It opened easily and Marco gaped at it. He pouted and flopped onto the couch next to Jean, who smiled and handed him a pickle.

As they ate Jean realised there was something he hadn't asked Marco. He didn't know what Marco did before all this, or who he was. Marco had never asked about Jean either. He decided to change this and asked, "So, what did you do before corpses started walking?"

Marco was a little surprised, he and Jean had been friends for months and before had never come up. "Well, I was in university for four years getting a pointless liberal arts degree before I finally decided that I wanted to join the police force. So I've been working on getting an associates in criminal justice, I was so close too," He said with a giggle, "What about you?"

"Well, I didn't really have any plans for my future, but my father insisted I at least get a bachelor's in political science, keep my dad happy."

Marco perked up at the mention of Jean's father. He tended to avoid the subject but Marco was curious. He pressed Jean for information but Jean changed the topic quickly back to Marco's life. They rambled on late into the night, talking about how Marco always wanted a brother named Polo and how Jean hated when people called him John.

"It's french, say it that way," He said and Marco laughed. It was the middle of the night when they finally got tired. They walked upstairs together. Marco quickly took the right side of the bed. Jean was slightly more apprehensive, but lay down on the left side of the bed so he and Marco were back to back. Sleep didn't come easily these days but eventually Jean's eyelids began to droop and he fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 5

The next morning, Jean had to admit, Marco's plan had worked great. When he woke up he was warm and comfortable, snuggled up to the source of the heat. He didn't want to move or open his eyes, it was nice. One of the nicest things he'd experienced since the start of the apocalypse. Wait, the heat source was…

Jean's eyes snapped open as he quickly became aware of his surroundings. He was cuddled up to Marco, nuzzling his neck. Marco's arm was draped lazily around his waist ad he had a peaceful smile on his face. Not wanting to wake Marco but still wanting to get out of the awkward position, Jean carefully removed Marco's arm from his waist. Moving slowly, he stepped out of the bed and set his arm back down. He actually looked really cute.

Woah, what? No, Jean wasn't willing to deal with this right now. He had spent three years convincing himself that he was straight, he wouldn't let the little freckled angel ruin that. No! Marco, not an angel. Jean took the stairs two at a time as he entered the living room. He flopped on the couch and put his face in his hands. After a few calming breaths he sat up straight.

Jean remembered his father's rants about the sanctity of marriage and the disgusting homos on T.V. but a little voice in the back of his head reminded him that his father wasn't there. Hell, his father probably wasn't even alive. While he was deep in his thoughts he hadn't noticed Marco come downstairs until he took a seat next to him.

"I don't know about you but that plan definitely worked for me," Marco said with a grin. Jean snapped his head towards Marco as a light blush covered his face. Marco giggled, "A little jumpy are we?"

Jean forced a chuckle but otherwise didn't respond, a frown setting over his face. Marco noticed Jean's odd behavior and his smile faltered, but in a second it was back. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I only got up a few minutes ago," Jean said.

"Great, so pickles again?" Marco asked as he stood to grab the bag. Jean nodded and Marco pulled out the pickle jar. He sat back down and popped the lid, offering the jar to Jean. Jean took the jar from Marco and their fingers brushed against each other. Jean felt sparks shoot up his arm and through his chest, but despite the light blush on his face he did his best to ignore it.

They ate and went about their usual morning business, which was pretty much sit around and try to find something to grabbed his book from the pile and Marco began wandering the house. As he was walking past the master bedroom he began walking faster, but something caught his eye. A calendar, one with checkmarks counting off the days. It occurred to him that he had no idea what day it was, or even what month.

He entered the room carefully, despite the knowledge that there was nothing in there. He grabbed the calendar and a sharpie from the desk before speed walking out of the room again. He entered the room he and Jean shared and sat at the desk, next to the broken window. They had cleaned up the glass weeks ago and Marco used it constantly.

He knew the outbreak had been early spring, the first few days of April. The last day checked was April third, Marco marked that as the day of the outbreak. He assumed he met Jean around early August, he chose the fifth and wrote it in. He wet down through the list, making hypotheses about when things happened. Found the farm, October seventh, he made a mental note to write that on the makeshift headstones they had for the graves outside. Since it was getting colder, Marco decided it was late November. He chose November twenty fifth so he could have a thirty day countdown to Christmas.

Marco excitedly made a small checkmark in the corner of every day from April fourth to November twenty fourth before he ran downstairs to Jean.

"I have deemed today November twenty fifth!"

"What?" Jean asked as he looked over the top of his book at Marco. Marco quickly explained himself and a smile split across Jean's face at Marco's giddy grin.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: yes, this was a** **Christmas** **fic, and yes, I finished this Christmas eve 2016. Did I post it on Christmas? No, because I'm an idiot.**

As the thirty days to Christmas ticked by Marco's cheer got stronger and Jean's resolve weakened. The voice in the back of his mind that he had silenced for years was speaking up more and more and Jean was beginning to listen.

Marco dug a box of Christmas decorations from the back of the closet and hung them around the house. He put a wreath on his and Jean's bedroom door, garlands hung everywhere they wouldn't fall, red bows were stuck on every wall and Marco had hung the mistletoe in the corner of the living room, just for the added Christmas cheer.

It was December first by Marco's count when it snowed for the first time that year and he excitedly raced outside. Jean sighed and grabbed a blanket from the pile on the coffee table before following Marco outside. He was standing shivering in as the snow fell around him, a huge grin on his face. Jean walked up to him and draped the blanket around both their shoulders, Marco shuffled closer.

"I got my first boyfriend during the first snowfall of the year," Marco said with a nostalgic smile on his lips. Jean froze. They had never talked about past relationships, or possible current ones. Jean cleared his throat and composed himself.

"Really? How did that work out?"

"Well, I always liked snow. One day back in grade eight I was out during lunch hour and it began to snow. While I was out there one of the guys in my class, Cody Simmons, came up and asked me out. He was cute and nice so I said yes. We dated for three weeks if I remember correctly, which was the longest relationship anyone in my class had ever been in because, y'know, middle school. Anyway, we broke up because the most popular girl in school dumped her boyfriend after four days and mine was next on her list."

"Seriously? He dumped you? There's no way she was better than you," Jean said. Marco smiled and Jean couldn't tell if his face was red because of what he had said or because of the cold.

"She wasn't that bad. She had moved on to Wyatt Cooper in her record time. Cody didn't even make it to period five."

"Well, I hope he learned his lesson," Jean said. Marco leaned against Jean and his arm wrapped around his waist.

It was the ninth when Marco decided to have some fun. He grabbed one of the jackets from the closet and went outside. Jean had gotten used to Marco suddenly deciding to go outside. The snow outside was littered with snow angels and snowmen. What Jean wasn't used to however, was when Marco came back inside and hit him square in the face with a snowball. He sputtered for a moment before looking up to see Marco hanging in the doorway bearing a huge grin.

The moment Jean spotted him Marco bolted out the door, bending down to scoop up another handful of snow. Jean followed after him as Marco hid behind a wall of snow that had clearly been built hastily in the few minutes Marco had been out there. Jean grabbed a handful of snow off the ground and packed it into a snowball. He slowly circled around Marco's wall until he saw his head pop up and chucked the at him. He heard giggling as Marco ducked away from it.

Jean passed the wall and realised what a mistake he had made when he saw the pile of snowballs Marco had accumulated. The first snowball hit Jean and he ran for cover behind a snowman.

"Come out Jean!" Marco called followed by another giggle. Jean began gathering his own arsenal when he heard movement coming from behind him. He turned just in time to see Marco dump an armload of snow on his head. A grin spread across Jeans face as he chased Marco tossing snow between them.

It ended in a draw with Jean and Marco collapsing together in the snow. Their laughter rang through the air, Jean decided it was his favorite sound, and once, just once, Jean forgot what was happening around them. The dead rising, the ransacked towns, the deserted streets. All he could think about was him and Marco, laughing in the snow.

It was December twentieth when Jean woke up to the sounds of singing. He opened his eyes to find himself alone in the bed and heard the muffled sounds of Christmas carols coming from downstairs. Had Marco found a working radio or something? Jean got out of bed and went downstairs to investigate. What he found when he got there came as a shock.

Marco had run out of decorations, so he decided to make more. He was cutting out a string of angels as he sang Winter Wonderland. His voice was beautiful and all thoughts left Jean's mind except Marco, sitting in the morning light, his voice filling the room. His heart rate picked up, a flush fell across his cheeks and there was no denying it, Jean was totally head over heels.

Jean felt a wave of nausea and relief wash over him at finally admitting that to himself. He sighed and Marco looked up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he realised he had been caught singing. He smiled brightly none the less, "Good morning Jean."

"G'morning. Don't you think there's enough Christmas decorations already?" Jean said as he sat next to Marco.

Marco looked him dead in the eyes, "Never."

A smile spread across his face and Jean laughed. He reached out and grabbed one of Marco's papers and a pencil. They sat together, Jean drawing and Marco crafting with his limited supplies, until Jean declared himself done and held his art in front of him. He had drawn a brick fireplace including stockings with his and Marco's names on them. Marco's jaw dropped, "Jean, that's incredible!"

"Not really, the bricks look weird and my stocking is misshapen, plus the fire just looks like a cartoon," Jean said with a grimace. He tossed his drawing on the table and leaned back. Marco smacked his shoulder.

"Shut up, it's beautiful. I wish I had a talent like that," Marco chided.

"You wish you had a talent? Have you never heard yourself sing before?" Jean asked. Marco blushed and turned away.

"No, I hate the sound of my voice," Marco mumbled. Jean was shocked. How could he hate his voice? It was so perfect. Jean shifted closer to Marco and he looked back at him.

"Jean, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Jean said, wanting to get Marco smiling again, although Marco's tone said that wouldn't be too easy.

"Why don't you like to talk about your father?"

Jean sighed, he had been expecting his for a while. "He wasn't the most, how should I put this, supportive, dad. He and I didn't agree on a lot, so most of the time when he went on one of his rants I had to just grin and bear it. Especially when he was talking about gays. I had to hide and lie about my whole love life so that I could keep a roof over my head. I finally escaped to college and I felt so free. Too free. I started thinking about what my dad would think and of all his speeches. Before I knew it I was bottled up again."

"Jean, that's awful." Marco at some point had curled up into Jean's side and was staring into his eyes.

"It's not that bad really. He was still a pretty good dad, played catch with me and stuff. I just wish I hadn't had to hide from him. Now I don't even know if he's alive." Jean looked down. Marco rested his head on his shoulder and Jean's hand came up to play with his hair. There they sat until they both completely lost track of did however achieve his goal of putting the smile back on Marco's face.

It was the twenty fourth when Jean decided to do something about his feelings. It would have to be perfect, and what better day that Christmas eve? Jean had been trying all day but couldn't get the words out right. At first he tried being blunt, but the words caught in his throat. Then he had tried dropping hints, but that had only served to confuse Marco. He was now going to move on to Christmas themed pickup lines. He took a deep breath and went downstairs.

"Hey, Marco, black ice isn't the only thing I'm falling for this Christmas," Jean said as he sat next to him. Marco looked slightly confused before laughing.

"Good one Jean."

Well, shit. That didn't work either. Through the rest of the day Jean tried with others such as "If you were a tree you'd be an evergreen because you look good year round" and "If you wake up in a box tomorrow it's because I asked for the cutest person in the world". Marco thought he was joking every time and Jean was running out of time for his perfect Christmas eve confession. He finally resorted to Plan Z.

When Marco decided to go outside Jean grabbed the last piece he would need, the mistletoe. He dashed back upstairs to finish setting up. He carefully situated the mistletoe in the center of the doorway of his and Marco's bedroom. Three candles were strategically placed around the room and the curtains drawn so they were the only source of light. One of his drawings hung on the wall, depicting a large Christmas tree covered in beautiful decorations, Marco sat on the top with a halo and pristine angel wings.

He rushed back downstairs before Marco could come back inside. He flopped down on the couch and grabbed his book. He could hardly sit still with all the nervous energy coursing through him. He was about to go join Marco outside when he came back inside, cheeks red from the cold and a grin on his face.

"Hey Marco, you hungry?"

"Yeah, what time is it anyway?" Marco said as he pulled off his coat. Jean leaned back to look out the window at the night sky.

"I'm gonna say seven o'clock." Jean said. Marco grabbed the food bag and sat next to him. He handed Jean a granola bar and grabbed one for himself, it was what they had deemed their Christmasiest food, "So what do you wanna do on Christmas eve?"

"Well, my family always ate a big dinner, then relaxed by the fireplace before we went to bed early so Santa could come," Marco said with a smile.

"We have granola bars and pickles, a drawing of a fireplace and Santa may or may not be a zombie," Jean said with a chuckle. Marco smacked his shoulder but snickered anyway.

"Close enough for me." He said and glanced around at his decorations, "Where's the mistletoe?"

Jean froze, "Uh, maybe it fell down."

Marco shrugged and curled up into the arm of the couch, watching the moonlight reflect off the tinsel. His eyelids began to droop and he sat up.

"Getting tired?" Jean asked.

"Yeah, time for bed," Marco said as he stood. Jean got up to follow him, his heart pounded in his chest and he felt light headed. Marco was talking but Jean wasn't hearing anything he was saying.

Before he went inside Marco turned around to finish his story, "So in the end, we had three Santas, two sexy elves and a star of David," He said with a laugh.

Jean took a deep breath and his heartrate felt like it had doubled. He leaned against the door as amorously as possible, "Hey Marco, you might want to look up."

He looked confused for a moment before looking up and the realisation blossomed across his face. Jean's heart skipped a beat when Marco looked back at him. He tried a sexy smirk but the best he could manage was an awkward smile. There was silence between them and Jean was about to say that he didn't have to when Marco smiled brightly. He pulled Jean into him and pressed their lips together.

Jean's heart felt like it had exploded. He slipped his arms around his waist to pull him closer. Marco's arms were wrapped around his neck and Jean couldn't think of anything that could possibly be better.

When they pulled away Marco's cheeks were bright red, "Jean, I-"

"I love you Marco."

Marco's mouth hung slightly open. He was silent for a moment before he buried his face in Jean's neck, "I love you too."

Marco pulled away with a brilliant smile. Jean was grinning from ear to ear, "C'mon, let's go to bed so Zombie Santa can come."

"Well Jean, at least ask me to dinner first," Marco grinned. Jean laughed and pulled him into the room. The candles lit up the room and Marco marveled at Jean's effort. Jean blew out the candles before taking Marco's hand and leading him to the bed. They snuggled together and both fell asleep with a smile.

Christmas morning Jean woke up with Marco in his arms. He smiled and nuzzled his hair affectionately. He pulled Marco closer and cuddled him. A while later Marco woke up and smiled. He pecked Jean's cheek, "Merry Christmas Jean."

"Merry Christmas angel."


	8. epilogue

**_Epilogue:_**

 **A/N: Yeah, I finished it without updating. sorry about that.**

 _The entire world had gone to shit._

Jean and Marco lived on the farm for months, going out for supplies and food. Occasionally people would come by, but they usually only stayed a few days. Most had destinations to go to.

 _This was definitely happening._

They learned about each other, their families and lives before the end.

 _No one thought it was possible._

A herd came through and Jean and Marco were forced to stay inside. Being as quiet as possible as they barricaded the doors and windows and stayed quiet in their room. When the hoard cleared and they took out the stragglers. They repaired the fence with metal scraps and pipes. They celebrated each other's birthdays and all of their favorite holidays together. They fought sometimes but something about the threat of losing the other always made them make up quickly.

 _This couldn't be real, but with Marco by his side, Jean really hoped it was_


End file.
